


The Lengths We Go to for the Perfect Crime

by bloo_balloon



Series: Lust for Life [4]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, First Meetings, Guns, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun is a Little Shit, Lee Taeyong is Whipped, Lee Taeyong is tsundere but we still stan, M/M, The filth will be in chapter 2, White Collar Crime, You've been warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-25 23:29:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17734715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloo_balloon/pseuds/bloo_balloon
Summary: Taeyong is in Paris to meet up with a potential business partner, with Jaehyun being the self proclaimed (and unfairly handsome) middle man who seems more interested in trying to score a date with Taeyong than in doing his actual job.And just who the hell is Jaehyun's mysterious (and equally handsome) friend and where does he fit into all of this?





	The Lengths We Go to for the Perfect Crime

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! As usual, this can be read as a standalone, but if you wanna check out the other installments of this series I won't be stopping ya. They all tie in to make a big convoluted mess that is slowly but surely starting to look less convoluted (at least in my head lol).
> 
> That being said, here's part 4.
> 
> Enjoy!

As cliche as it may be, their story begins in Paris. The city of lights, of love and of insanely good wine.

 

He’s already on his third glass, but the ‘lovely’ gentleman who has not left his side since the beginning of the night feels that much more infuriating the more Taeyong drinks. It’s a 1982 Chateau Pétrus that he’s only tasted once before, but he can definitely say it is worth the praise and the price point. It’s a shame it has to be drunk in such poor company.

 

His suitor is likely mistaking his boredom for playing hard to get, because the more Taeyong tries to put some space between their bodies, the more the insistent man is inching closer.

 

The conversation started promising, with the man charming his way right under Taeyong’s skin by showcasing extensive knowledge about the nineteenth and  twentieth century movements in art and literature. And Taeyong couldn’t resist a man who knew his shit about art and literature.

 

The man introduced himself as Toulouse and proclaimed that he was named after Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec by his mother who came from a long line of jazz pianists. His voice was a bit nasal and he was a bit of an arrogant prick, but he had a decently pretty face and beautiful hands and Taeyong thought that he’d just found his man for the night.

 

But when the personal questions began, Taeyong started to get extremely bored. He’s never had any problems making up lies about himself. If anything he is quite good at it, so good that he is pretty much making a living out of it. But Toulouse wasn’t really worth making up lies for. He left much to be desired and Taeyong was gradually losing interest the more Toulouse talked.

 

“I haven’t seen you around before, mon chère ,” Toulouse tells him, tipping his head back to empty the contents of his wine glass. Taeyong finds it repugnant. Toulouse may be prancing around in expensive suits and drive million euro cars, but what he lacks is finesse and no amount of riches can buy that for a man.

 

“I tend to go unnoticed in a crowd,” he says cryptically. “I’m not what you’d call an interesting man.”

 

“Nonsense, Taeyong!” the way the Frenchman is struggling to pronounce his name should by no means be as funny as Taeyong thinks it is. He looks down at his own glass only to find it nearly empty. Ah, maybe that’s why. “You might have not seen it, but virtually everybody in this room had their eyes on you when you walked in. That’s not a face that can go unnoticed, mon chère, I’m telling you.”

 

Taeyong barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. He flags down a waiter and asks for something strong. Fuck wine. If he wants to survive the night without having to resort to murder he’ll need some bourbon, or vodka, or rum, or _anything_ that’ll make Toulouse’s company more bearable. He’s starting to think it’s not worth putting up with this just for a quick lay and some spare change.

 

“So what do you do for a living?” Toulouse asks.

 

“I paint, but I’m currently on an indefinite break,” Taeyong says. “I’ve always wanted to see more of what the world has to offer so I saved up money to travel.” His prayers are answered when the waiter chooses that exact moment to return with his drink. He downs half of it immediately, grimacing slightly at the burn. Screw manners and screw this night. “I just flew in from Mauritius, actually. I’m still a bit jet lagged.”

 

And that’s only partially true.

 

Mauritius was awful during that time of the year and Taeyong discovered that shortly after touching down. The humidity made it almost impossible to stay outside for long periods at a time and having it coupled with the extreme heat made the perfect combo to ruin his mood completely. If he’d gone there on vacation he’d probably end up throwing a fit and boarding the first flight back home.

 

But his trip to Mauritius, as hellish and damp and utterly unbearable as it had been, wasn’t meant to be a vacation anyway. Just his luck, his contact was in a bit of a bind and it was one of the rare occasions where Taeyong had to go to her and not the other way round.

 

Seulgi was as much of a sweetheart as she was a hard-ass. She was diligent and careful and she even offered to pay for Taeyong’s plane ticket to Mauritius, just because she was inconveniencing him by not being able to meet up at one of their usual places.

 

Of course he ended up buying his own ticket, he wasn’t _that_ petty. Plus, he thought it’d be a nice change of scenery to visit a country he’d only ever read about in tourist guides.

 

As previously mentioned, the trip ended up being awful, but at least Seulgi had some great news for him. They almost managed to make him forget about the shitty weather. Almost.

 

“I found someone willing to take the job,” she said. “He helped me sell a Renoir a few years back and it just came to me that he‘d be perfect for what you need. I got in touch with him last week and he seemed interested,” she paused. “He’s French-Chinese, but he’s currently living in South Korea. Goes by the name Winwin.”

 

“What kind of name is that?”

 

“This was his only request, doll,” Seulgi sounded apologetic as she told him that. “He’s had a few close calls with the authorities and he’s a bit too paranoid to give out his name to people he doesn’t know well. Maybe that’ll change if you get in his good graces.”

 

“And how do I find this Winwin person?”

 

“He’ll be in Paris over the weekend to finalize a transaction with a high paying client,” she explained. “He wants to meet you there.”

 

“So do I get some sort of picture, or any way to be able to get into contact with him? Or am I just going to blindly search for him all over Paris?” he frowned.

 

“No pictures, but he told me to get back to him when you land. He’ll set up a meeting place then.”

 

“Just how paranoid is this man exactly?”

 

“He’s something else, Ty. Trust me on this. He doesn’t call himself Winwin just ‘cause it sounds cool.”

 

Taeyong snorted. “It really fucking doesn’t.”

 

She waved him off with a laugh. “You’ll strike gold if you work with him. I can vouch for that.”

 

And that’s how he found himself in Paris, at a party he attended just to alleviate his boredom until Seulgi got back to him with news from Winwin, with an annoying man glued to his side and no apparent way to get rid of him.

 

He’s decently buzzed by the time Toulouse finishes recounting a story about how he almost got arrested for possession in Thailand, but Taeyong can’t say he’s been paying attention, choosing to mute out the Frenchman's voice and instead stare intently at the melting ice from his empty tumbler, praying for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

 

It’s only eleven o’clock, and Taeyong is just about ready to give up and call it a night, content with at least managing to knick Toulouse’s expensive looking wallet when the man wasn’t paying attention. But just as he’s trying to come up with a believable excuse as to why he’s leaving so early, an unfamiliar voice calls out his name.

 

“There you are, Taeyongie!”

 

He isn’t given any time to register the words properly before he’s being swooped away from Toulouse’s side straight into a pair of strong arms. The soothing scent of the man’s cologne hits him instantly and despite himself, he relaxes into the unexpected embrace.

 

When the unknown man pulls away, Taeyong is finally able to see his face. And let’s just say that the man could force a lot of models into retirement if he put his mind to it. His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles and his dimples are cute as hell, for lack of a better descriptive term.

 

He’s princely, that’s it. That’s the right word.

 

Toulouse seems confused for all but a second, and then his previously cheerful demeanor visibly shifts into animosity. “Jaehyun,” he acknowledges with a huff of annoyance. “What a pleasant surprise.”

 

And the princely man, Jaehyun as Taeyong now knows he is called, reaches out to shake Toulouse’s hand vigorously. His other arm stays around Taeyong’s shoulders and that only seems to aggravate Toulouse even more. “You know me. Always up for a good party.” Jaehyun’s English is slightly accented, but his pronunciation is nearly flawless.

 

“Do you two know each other?” Toulouse asks with feigned disinterest. He sizes Jaehyun up and down, as if measuring his odds against him. It’s a losing battle so far.  Taeyong thinks the Frenchman doesn’t even hold a candle to Jaehyun.

 

“Oh yeah! Taeyong and I go way back,” Jaehyun drawls without missing a beat. “We used to go to school together, right up until he decided to fuck off to New York to finish his degree at a fancy private art school. Isn’t that right?”

 

And that’s a bit too close to the truth for Taeyong’s liking, because he _did_ go to New York to get his degree and he _did_ go to a private university. Just how the hell would Jaehyun know that, considering that they’ve never met until now.

 

It takes a while for Taeyong to realize that Jaehyun is looking at him expectantly as if waiting for him to confirm his words. And so he nods and proceeds to do what he does best. He lies through his teeth. “That’s right. It was after I came back to Korea that we reconnected.”

 

“We’ve been inseparable ever since,” Jaehyun smiles down at him again and Taeyong swears that he goes weak at the knees. “We’ve been through thick and thin together and I just know that our love will stand the test of time, no matter what life throws our way.”

 

Taeyong nearly chokes at that. No one in their right mind would believe something as cheesy as that…

 

No one except Toulouse, it seems. “Together? Love?” He murmurs incredulously. His eyes are as wide as saucers as he looks from Jaehyun, to Taeyong, then back to Jaehyun again.

 

“Yeah. Thanks for keeping Taeyongie company, Toulouse. He’s a bit of a wallflower and not entirely too keen on these types of gatherings, but you two seemed to hit it off just fine,” Jaehyun says, pulling Taeyong closer to his side and nuzzling his face into his neck affectionately. “Now if you’ll excuse us, I think we’ll retire for the night. We’re flying back home first hand in morning so we’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

 

“I… Of course,” Toulouse sighs, disappointed. Taeyong nearly bursts out laughing. “I wouldn't want to hold you up any longer than necessary.”

 

Jaehyun smiles gratefully. “Thanks Toulouse, you’re the best. Next time we are in Paris, I’ll be sure to give you a call so we can properly catch up.”

 

And just like that, Taeyong is whisked away from the party, equal parts grateful and confused. Grateful, because this handsome stranger sprung out of seemingly nowhere to save him from Toulouse’s clutches and confused because he doesn’t understand what prompted Jaehyun to do so.

 

“Toulouse is a pompous dick,” Jaehyun says with distaste, as if he’d just eaten one too many lemon slices in one sitting. “You looked like you were either about to jump out the window or strangle him with his overpriced silk tie.”

 

Taeyong chuckles. “I value my life enough to have picked the second option thank you very much.”

 

“Good choice. No one would miss him anyway,” Jaehyun pauses, then adds in a much quieter tone, “but I’m pretty sure our dear Toulouse is going to miss his wallet, wouldn’t you say so?”

 

Taeyong freezes on the spot, reaching for his coat pocket only to find that Toulouse’s wallet is nowhere to be found. “How did you-“

 

Jaehyun holds the wallet up in the air, dangling it by its leather strap right in front of Taeyong’s face. “It was when I hugged you,” he shrugs.

 

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Taeyong says carefully. “So what are you going to do about it?” he challenges.

 

And for the second time in the last half hour Taeyong is taken by surprise when Jaehyun tosses him back the wallet. He barely has time to react and catch it mid-air. “Absolutely nothing,” Jaehyun replies with a grin. The light from the streetlamps catches beautifully on Jaehyun’s face and Taeyong is momentarily dumbstruck. He nearly forgets about the fact that he’d just been made a fool of.

 

Jaehyun resumes walking down the sidewalk, but stops once he realizes Taeyong hasn’t moved to follow him. “Aren’t you coming? There’s a taxi station just around the corner.”

 

Is that it? Is Jaehyun just going to pretend like nothing happened? Just like that?

 

“Toulouse would never believe it was you who took his wallet,” Jaehyun explains in an even voice. “It’s my word against yours. And as you could probably tell, the fucker hates my guts. Three guesses on who’ll end up taking the fall.”

 

“Okay fair. But why not go to the police with it?” he counters.

 

“Police?” Jaehyun snorts. “Who do you think I am? Some morally upright citizen? I more or less implied that you can keep it, Taeyong. I have no intention of ever returning it.”

 

“Back at the party,” Taeyong says, crossing his arms over his chest defensively, “you knew my name…”

 

“I overheard Toulouse struggling to pronounce it multiple times,” Jaehyun chuckles. “It was funny.”

 

“You told Toulouse that I finished school in New York. How the hell could you have known _that_? And if you’re gonna tell me it was all just a lucky coincidence, I won’t hesitate to hit you.”

 

“Feisty.”

 

And that just about does it for Taeyong.

 

With all the strength he can muster, he manhandles Jaehyun into a dimly lit side street and shoves him up against the wall of an old building. When Jaehyun doesn’t look the least bit phased by his outburst Taeyong wraps his hand around the taller man’s neck and squeezes, applying just enough pressure for it to feel uncomfortable.

 

“Just who the hell are you?” he growls. “Who do you work for?”

 

And Jaehyun still has the gall to laugh. “You’re lucky that I’m a proper gentleman, or otherwise you’d already be sporting a black eye, Taeyongie.”

 

Only when Jaehyun finds himself staring down the barrel of Taeyong’s gun does the smile fall from his face. “Don’t fucking patronize me, Jaehyun.”

 

“You sure you want to flaunt a gun around while you’re drunk?”

 

The click of the safety echoes ominously, but Jaehyun still isn’t deterred. “You’re not going to shoot me,” he says with complete certainty.

 

Taeyong scowls. “Oh yeah? You have yet to give me a reason not to.”

 

“You’re not going to shoot me,” Jaehyun repeats slowly, his eyes trained on Taeyong’s face the whole time. How he could be so calm in the face of a potentially life threatening situation was a mystery to Taeyong. “because if you do, you’ll lose your only chance of ever meeting Winwin.”

 

And that definitely gives him pause. “Bullshit. Seulgi’s got that covered for me.”

 

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, clearly amused at the situation. “Seulgi only told you what we wanted you to find out.”

 

“Which isn’t very much to begin with,” Taeyong grumbles.

 

“And that’s exactly why you need me.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you're having a lovely day!
> 
> Leaving feedback is encouraged and highly appreciated!


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